


In The Darkness

by NotObsess_Lie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot, zarry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 01:34:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotObsess_Lie/pseuds/NotObsess_Lie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this out of personal experience. It wasn't even freaking Halloween and I got to be all alone in the pouring with electricity off. Just my luck. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote>





	In The Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this out of personal experience. It wasn't even freaking Halloween and I got to be all alone in the pouring with electricity off. Just my luck. Enjoy!

          It was Saturday afternoon and Harry didn’t know why but he decided to be left alone at their flat because usually he goes out and piss himself tell he don’t know the answer to 1 + 1. He had overslept actually and he found out ─ when he woke up ─ that Louis had left and none of the lads, who visited, stayed. He understood that they all have lives of their own but he couldn’t help but be sad about waking up all alone when he fell asleep despite their noises. It was very lonely ─ with everything starting to dim and he couldn’t see the setting sun because as always it seems like it’s going to rain again ─ and silence is his only company. He wanted to go back to sleep because he didn’t like the idea of being alone but no matter what he does slumber wouldn’t visit him again.

          Harry headed downstairs and opened the telly on the living room, not that he wanted to watch it. He just needed the noise from the machine to distract him from that uncomfortable stillness of everything that made him wonder if time itself stopped moving that very moment. But of course that never happens because the days passed by in flashes these last couple of months and so did his life which he still couldn’t get a grip of if you ask him. And it just sucks when he wanted a moment to last forever and it doesn’t because everything needs to keep moving forward. It’s not a bad thing since it’s the way it should be but at times he wanted it all to slow down so he could breathe.

          He wanted to feel the moment. Feel it and let it sink in his bones.

          And just when he was thinking of all those random, melancholic shit the light suddenly went off. He was caught off guard by the sudden darkness that he let out a little yelp. It wasn’t that he was scared of the bleakness of the night but he couldn’t help being terrified since occasions like this rarely happens and he let out a low, bitter laugh because only shit like that happens to him. He didn’t understand why the generator or back up power wasn’t used. He’s not the one who complains and so he settled with the idea that maybe something was wrong with everything right now and it’s all so fucking fantastic.

          Just as he was entertaining himself with his own sarcasm, he looked for some candles or anything that could provide light so the flat wouldn’t look so bloody frightening and it wasn’t even Halloween yet. Using the light from his phone he searched for the candles and reminded himself that he should buy thatemergency light he had seen once from an advertisement. He used to be amused at the idea of people buyingthat impractical equipment since there were no blackouts in London and now he’s the one being laughed at as he vainly hunts for wax light. And after a century had passed, he finally landed himself on two flimsy looking candle sticks and he did not feel relieve at all because they don’t look so reliable. But he got no choice so he lit them, using Zayn’s forgotten lighter that somehow Harry had remembered.

          He knew the chances of fire cases from candle lights and he loved the flat too much to let that happen so he made sure that he didn’t place it near the curtains or anything flammable. He put one on the coffee table and the other one on the dinning table. He placed them inside the empty water glasses that would surely leave marks, that’ll make the glasses unusable and enough for Louis to tell him off. He doesn’t care about what Louis would say at the moment because all he wanted was to have a little flicker of light since the darkness around him is tightening his lungs. And he doesn’t know if it was because of the blackness of the night or the loneliness he’s feeling deep inside.

          Satisfied with his work, Harry sat down on the floor behind the door. He didn’t know why he chose to sit there but he did so anyway and he watched the light from the living room and kitchen merged together at the hallway in front of the stairs. He couldn’t bear to go upstairs because he was a big scaredy cat. He had watched too much scary and ghost movies that is enough to make him panicky at times like this. And he’s embarrass by that very realization because for Pete’s sake he’s nineteen, old enough to know better that there are no ghost. Or that’s what he’s trying to tell himself.

          As Harry continue to stare at the stairs and he can see the darkened second floor upstairs, he’s mind creates gore imaginations that doesn’t help his situation. His brain was remembering every damn ghost movies he had ever watched and the scariest one he had seen was the Japanese movie _The Grudge_. And it also didn’t help that he was looking at the stairs because in the movie the bloody and dismantled body of the ghost crawls down the stairs and there was this eerie, goosebumb-making sound in the background. Harry can almost hear that spooky music and his heart was on his throat, but he couldn’t look away from the stairs even how much scared he was because he was human. Humans tend to create their own fear even though they know that they can help it.

          Harry swore to God that he almost had a heart attack when his phone suddenly rings, indicating that he had a message. The light from his iPhone blinded him a little and as he opened the message and saw Zayn’s name. He didn’t even notice that he was still holding Zayn’s lighter at his hand. He was clutching it in his palm the whole time and was gripping it tighter when he got scared at his own crazy imaginations about a blood-drenched ghost crawling down the stairs.

          _Haz, you okay babe? x_

          Those simple words brought him relief like no candles or flashlights (he hasn’t found any) can. It was the biggest torch of light in that hour of darkness and he wanted to leap out of joy because someone had remembered him. It was a big deal because he had been hearing vehicles from the road outside and was wishing it was halting because it was owned by someone he knows, who’s about to investigate if he was okay. And yes that didn’t happen but he doesn’t care because Zayn texted him. Zayn cared to know how he was doing and it was enough to make Harry forget of ghost, of loneliness, of being alone, of being tired.

          It was enough.

          _Yeah. Thanks. You? :) xx_

Harry smiled stupidly, all his anxiety was thrown out of the window, because Zayn was worried. Of him. And Zayn’s list of people he cares for is short and that makes Harry feel so special. It was a nice feeling, one that no words can ever describe.

          He was still gloating over that short text message when someone knocked on the door loudly. It wasn’t a rude kind of knock, it was just loud. Maybe because everything was so quiet and it was a bit surprising that the silence was broken. Harry stood up and wondered who could be visiting him, not that he didn’t like visitors because he certainly needed some company right now.

          He was worried because he doesn’t know who the stranger could be. It could be some crazy bloke with a knife or a gun, looking for a victim. It could also be paparazzi who have finally located his and Louis’ flat. It could be an alien from Mars, abducting people and bringing them back to their planets as slaves; and it would explain why there was a blackout. The list of possibilities was endless and it made Harry fidget.

          “Haz, are you in there?” It was Zayn’s voice and Harry wanted to cry because he had never felt safer in his life. He immediately opened the door and he came face to face with Zayn, whose features weren’t shaken by the dimness of the surrounding. A small amount of light from Harry’s living room and kitchen escapes through the opened door and hits Zayn, illuminating his beautiful face that looked even more stunning in golden lights. Harry was taken aback, as always, by Zayn’s perfection ─ Harry would never get used to it. The contours of Zayn’s physique was more defined and highlighted that dazzled Harry, he forgot to breathe.

          But it was actually Zayn who was out of breath because he was panting and all, as if he just finished running a race.

          “Zayn.” There was surprise, relief, awe, and happiness in Harry’s voice that somehow sounded confused because Zayn was a mess ─ a hot mess ─ with hair sticking out at different direction from the run. But one emotion reigned and that was relief. He felt like a flower tasting rain after the summer but Zayn was more of like the sun right now, dawning on Harry after a tormenting night of darkness. “Did you run from your place to here?” He couldn’t help but ask because Zayn wasn’t the type who would run like his life depended on it and the tan boy just loves his hair to much to let it be muddled by the wind. And based on Harry’s calculation the distance could be more or less a kilometer.

          Zayn ignored the question. “Are you okay?” Zayn asked him worriedly, running a hand through his disarrayed hair that was so sexy. Harry was reminded of Edward Cullen because Bella said that’s how Edward’s hair looks like most of the time. It was funny how Harry just compared a fictional character and Zayn because he never does that. It was silly of him of think of such things in their current situation.

          “Yeah,” Harry answered, still confused by Zayn’s disheveled-ness which never happens because the older boy was always compose. “Come in.” He stepped aside so Zayn could get in. And he closed the door behind him when they were both inside.

          Zayn investigated the premises as if he would find armed men jumping out of nowhere. Harry had to smile because Zayn was reading too much comic books again and that he was being delusional. It was a little blackout and not the apocalypse.

          “Would you like to join me for dinner?” Harry asked the older boy, he couldn’t stand the silence because he had enough of it from the last hours he had spent all alone. Zayn looked at him with one eyebrow raised as if questioning the bizarreness of his random out burst. “I’m having fried chicken.” He smiled, all teeth and dimples.

**

          “Why did you come?” Harry asked after swallowing his mouthful of chicken meat. His lips were glossy, against the dim candle lit, from the oil of the fried chicken. If his Mum was there she would be telling him off about his table manners, not too mention that he was eating with his bare hands. He found it quite amusing to be able to eat like that in the semi-darkness with no care about eating protocols, as if he was raised by a pack of wolves as he digs into the bucket of chicken and chew like a beast. He was clearly enjoying it, especially that Zayn was there with him and doing exactly the same thing. They have no care in the world and somehow it was like a breath of fresh air, free from pollution and all.

          Zayn didn’t answer immediately and was weighing the possibilities inside his head, Harry noticed. And it was so Zayn to be thinking first before doing or saying anything and Harry loved him for that. Did he just say love? No, he shook his head. It was just an admiration for Zayn’s maturity, he tried to convince himself but to no avail.

          Maybe Harry did love Zayn. What’s not to love anyway? He smiled to himself as he studies the tan boy beside him. They were setting on the kitchen floor with their backs leaning on the wooden cabinets, a small space ─ for the candle ─ between them. Both were seating cross-legged as if about to chant a prayer like a monk would do.

          Maybe it’s love when he looks at Zayn like that ─ as if the tan boy was an oasis in his deserted earth ─ even knowing that the other lad would never look back. He doesn’t know anything about crushes, much more about love. But all Harry knows is that, he is satisfied looking at Zayn like _that_ and it becomes into a moment, one that he wishes he could freeze forever.

          “I was worried,” Zayn answered so low that even in the quiet of the night, Harry almost missed it. But he didn’t. Harry heard it loud and clear, his heart did and it shuffled inside his chest like someone being awakened in the early morning by a loud sound. Zayn was looking at him under his lashes, and Harry can’t tell if the other boy was blushing or it was just the light from the candle creating a strange hue on the Zayn’s olive skin.

          “Thanks,” Harry muttered and closed his mouth, realizing that it was ajar and he might have looked like a fish. It didn’t miss his attention that Zayn was playing with his fingers in a nervous manner and it makes Harry anxious too. The aura in the room changed and suddenly it was too warm, not from their little torch. “Is that why you ran from your flat to here?” His voice was pleading that it sounded pathetic. Why was he begging for such an almost insignificant answer but he couldn’t care less anyway. He wanted to know.

          Who knew a simple question that could be answered by a ‘Yes’ or a ‘No’ can get Zayn Malik into his Critically Thinking Mode. Harry didn’t mind waiting for the short answer to such a crude question because to him it was a matter of life and death. If Zayn answers ‘No’, Harry would be crushed, devastated, distraught because it only meant that there was no meaning behind the boy’s gesture of coming over and he was trying foolishly to float buoyantly on stormy waters. And that is something impossible to do because you end up getting drowned which isn’t what Harry wants.

          Another long silence that is slowly pushing Harry off the cliff and into the big rocks and dark, cold waters. And he doesn’t know if he could stay much longer at the edge or just jump into it to save himself from all the agony of anticipation when in the end he will end up dismantled by his fall.

          Harry noticed that they both ignored the bucket of chicken. Not that they have any more appetite to eat when there’s this miasma of tension surrounding them both.

          “Yes,” Zayn answered, almost embarrassed. Harry let go of the breath he was holding with the mention of those three letter word.

          “If you’re worried, you could just have called me,” he pointed out, making sure Zayn understood what he’s trying to imply. “Why did you go into so much trouble to see me?” Harry didn’t know why he’s being such a greedy bastard for trying to push things so far with Zayn. Why can’t he be satisfied with that answer he had wanted to hear? But he’s too human to be contented because he wanted more and often times when you want too much, you get nothing in the end.

          And Harry regretted asking because there’s that unwanted silence again, the one that’s stopping the air from flowing in and out of his nostrils and throat. He doesn’t know what to do now. He had blown his chances, his floaters, causing his own drowning and there’s no one else to blame.

          “I don’t know,” Zayn answered, sounding confused. And Harry’s heart sank because it’s much harder to put some sense into someone whose brain is in jumble. He looked away from Zayn and stared into the darkness and he feels like he’s part of it. It was consuming him and he doesn’t fight back.

          All hope is lost. Zayn doesn’t know. Harry doesn’t know. Nobody seems to help them comprehend what’s actually happening but then again nothing does, only when we look back at it, does it make sense.

          “I don’t know,” Zayn says again and Harry’s sure that the second time hurts just as much as the first one. But Zayn reaches out and holds Harry’s hand with his as he stares at the younger lad. “But it felt right.” Harry gazed back and his eyes searched Zayn’s for confirmation that he had heard him correctly. And when the tan boy smiled, Harry knew then and there that his ears didn’t make up all of those stuffs.

          A small smile slowly crept into Harry’s lips because yes, it did feel right. He can feel it in his bones. And he wanted it to last. It was all perfect.

          Harry rested his head on Zayn’s shoulder.

          “If only I knew that this blackout would end up to this, I should have asked the mayor to have done this sooner,” Harry says and Zayn laughed, amused. “How’d you know where I was?”

          “Louis texted me that he was with El,” Zayn explains, quietly. “So I figure that you’d be all alone. So I,” Zayn paused, embarrassed. And Harry was of no help when he says ‘Awwww’, prolonging the ‘w’.

          “That’s so sweet Zaynie,” Harry coos, knowing fully that it’ll fluster the older boy more. He giggles.

          “Yeah. Coz I know you’d be scared as shit,” Zayn retorts that should sound mean but it held no ounce of animosity.

          “I was not,” Harry defended, gasping a bit as if to say that what the other boy was saying is incredulous. But who was he kidding, he was shitty scared before Zayn came. And he knew that Zayn knows that he was a freaking coward in the darkness.

          Zayn makes a sarcastic ‘hmmm’ sound. “No one wonder you look so pale and sweating severely when I got here.”

          “Poor temperature and lighting,” Harry insisted. And he suddenly remembered the Zayn’s lighter that was now on his pocket. He took it out and clutched it in his hand as he thought how it helped him in the blackness that surrounded him when the blackout happened. That cold little silver thing was like Zayn, all icy in the outside but then, it provides light, warm, and hope, like Zayn does. A ray of sunshine that makes Harry’s world bright and he wishes that it was forever. The light he gets from the older boy, he wants it to be never ending.

          “It’s okay,” Zayn says. “I’m not going to leave you.” He circles an arm around Harry’s shoulder. “Not now. Not ever. You don’t have to be scared of the darkness anymore. You don’t have to fear being alone because you never will be, as long as I’m here yeah?”

          Harry nods and the older boy leaned in and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. And Harry’s heart raced, not from fear this time, because for once the hours stopped and he could breathe just fine, knowing that this memory would be deep-rooted somewhere in his mind and he could relived it any moment he wants. It was infinite, they both were. And there in the darkness with Zayn, Harry had found his clarity.

         

**Author's Note:**

> Comment (good or bad) and Kudos are appreciated. Massive thank you! :) xoxo


End file.
